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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433660">Operation: First Date</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogue_1102/pseuds/rogue_1102'>rogue_1102</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Ball</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Spies &amp; Secret Agents, Awesome Bulma Briefs, Bourne Identity Vegeta, Combat Flirting, F/M, First Dates, Rival Relationship, Slow Build, Spies &amp; Secret Agents</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:30:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogue_1102/pseuds/rogue_1102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>First Dates are the worst, especially when you only have one chance to save the world. </p><p>Bulma and Vegeta, agents from rival spy organizations, must work together to stop a plot to end the world. Will they be able to get the job done? Will the faux date turn into something more?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bulma Briefs/Vegeta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Vegebul First Dates</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Meet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lachanophobic/gifts">Lachanophobic</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Following the standard itinerary of a First Date:</p><p>Meet<br/>
Get to Know<br/>
Eat Food/Get a Drink<br/>
Do an activity<br/>
Decide if you want to do it again</p><p>Art by <a href="https://twitter.com/AnbeiH">AnbeiH</a></p><p> </p><p></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One look at the sky and she knew that there would be trouble. Dark, foreboding clouds stretched across her field of view, and the scent of petrichor, that tell-tale earthy smell that forecasted the appearance of rain, hung in the air.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, shoot! I’m going to be late.</em>
</p>
<p>As she walked down the well-manicured cobblestones that paved a path through the park, other pedestrians passed her without a second look despite the flashy, red-sequined dress she wore that clung to every curve like a second skin.</p>
<p>Her equally-ruby red lips curved upwards in a satisfied smirk, and she tossed her long, brunette hair over her shoulder. Although her scalp itched like the dickens while wearing the accursed wig, it had been a deliberate choice. A woman in a red dress was a common enough, almost urbane, descriptor. A woman in a red dress, with aqua hair, stood out more in the mind’s eye of the average layman.</p>
<p>As the sky grew darker, the lamps that lined the path flickered and turned on, all but escorting her down the road that twisted around towards the back of the park and to her meeting place. The soft click of her heels stood out in the evening air, even as the crickets and lightning bugs began to come out of hiding. Each trill and brief flash of light further highlighted her solitary existence in the far reaches of the self-described public place. If things went wrong, it would be a long time before anyone was the wiser.</p>
<p>A lone park bench that sat beneath one of the beautiful, artisanal lampposts came into view, and she eagerly sat down to survey her surroundings. Finding nothing amiss, she crossed one leg over the other and proceeded to wait for her mystery man. Unfortunately, patience had never been a strong suit of hers, and soon she began to grow restless with the inactivity. With a sigh, she opened her matching red clutch and pulled out her phone. It was as she thought - The man in question was late.</p>
<p>
  <em>Ugh! I could have been there already. Doesn't he know we're on a time table? I don’t see why I have to even have to have a partn-</em>
</p>
<p>“The park’s closing in 10 minutes, miss.”</p>
<p>A deep, rough voice pulled her out of her mini-rant, and she looked up to see a man in a blue jumpsuit and cap looking at her with disinterest from a nearby trash can. Her educated eyes took in every minute detail of this person, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.</p>
<p>The back of his jumpsuit was emblazoned with the words’ Park Services’ and a bag of, presumably trash, sat next to him. In his hands was a trash picker, its sharpened steel tip glistening under the lamplight. His face could be described as handsome, though the bangs on his forehead gave him an unkempt appearance; however, it was the hardness of his eye that made her danger sense start to buzz in the back of her head and a shiver run up her spine. Even beneath the ill-fitting navy-colored jumpsuit, she could make out solid muscles that could easily overpower her, especially in these heels.</p>
<p>However, she kept her features carefully schooled and relaxed as she recrossed her legs. “My date is running late, so I’m meeting him here.” She replied with a charming smile.</p>
<p>The man turned, looking her up and down. The disgust was clear and vitriolic on his face as he sneered and held up a finger that bore a wedding ring. “I think your date stood you up. Go ply your services elsewhere before I call the cops.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Did he just call me a whore?</em>
</p>
<p>“My services? Honey, even if I were what you’re implying, you wouldn’t be able to afford it on that salary. I think you should go before I report you to your manager….or the cops even, for solicitation.”</p>
<p>Anger flashed in the man’s eyes, and a line of displeasure formed between his brows, but she did not disguise the satisfaction that coursed through her body at the way her words seemed to unhinge him. Despite this, however, she attempted to subtly check the stiletto strapped to one thigh and the gun hidden in her clutch.</p>
<p>The frown on the man’s face became deeper and his eyes narrowed with suspicion, but he merely shrugged and stabbed the picker into the ground as he proceeded to dump the remainder of his trash in the receptacle.</p>
<p>“Regardless of who you call, you have to leave. It’s my job to clean up. If something happens to you, that job will not change.”</p>
<p>She huffed in derision, but her ears caught the faint grinding sound of a heavy-duty zipper being lowered and the tell-tale click of a gun hammer being pulled back.</p>
<p>
  <em>Shit. This...was not what I wanted.</em>
</p>
<p>Without hesitation, she stood and smoothed out the creases in her dress. Although her throat wanted to close up in fear, an unaffected laugh wiggled its way from between her lips. “They should put that on the brochures to the park. ‘Family-friendly park! We clean up rape victims, so you don’t have to worry about those unsightly corpses!’</p>
<p>Her hand drifted down to the sheath strapped to her leg, but she did not make a move to pull out her tactical dive knife as she stepped back on the path to move away. Her heels clicked softly with each careful foot she placed in front of each other.</p>
<p>“You should really move on, miss. Whether you get raped or not is of no concern of mine.”</p>
<p>“Then just walk away, and don’t worry about me.”</p>
<p>The man glanced over his shoulder. Although the light barely reflected in his dark eyes, she could detect a faint hint of amusement at her proximity to his person. Her muscles tensed, poised in anticipation of his next move.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he murmured.</p>
<p>Quick as lightning, he spun 180 degrees on the balls of his feet to face her. She fought against instinct to hold her breath in fear, willing her breathing to remain calm as her eyes lasered in on the dulled metal of the barrel on the Beretta 92 semi-auto in his hand. Cold, emotionless death stared back with his finger curled around the trigger in preparation to fire.</p>
<p>Reflexively, she grabbed the weapon and twisted it away from her body.</p>
<p>
  <strong>Crack!</strong>
</p>
<p>A loud grunt of pain followed a sharp strike against his wrist with the blade of her forearm as he loosened his grip on the firearm, but neither of them looked as the gun skittered and clattered down the path. Their sole focus was on the opposition in front of them, and she felt the familiar dissociative mask of her profession slid into pace.</p>
<p>
  <strong>Twap! Ooof!</strong>
</p>
<p>A vicious knee to the groin caused him to suck in another gasp of discomfort; however, he adroitly blocked her incoming jab and spun her around. His thick arm wrapped around her neck, and soon the edges of her vision started to blur as he placed pressure on her carotid artery.</p>
<p>Thinking quickly, she kicked backward and used the stiletto of her heel to jab into his shin, which forced him to loosen his hold. She twirled away, the beaded train of her dress dragging on the ground, and opened her clutch for her gun.</p>
<p>Undeterred, the would-be assassin moved into her space with almost cat-like grace. She swung with her clutch, but he easily dodged her frenzied attack and grabbed her thigh in preparation for a take-down. His hand, hard and warm, held her flesh in a bruising grip; however, she abruptly boxed his ear with the flat of her free hand, the motion of which caused his hat to go flying off his head and reveal flame-shaped dark hair.</p>
<p>“Fuck!” her attacker cursed as he turned back to face her, pulling her body close to his own. She smiled and arched a well-manicured brow as she pressed the cold steel of the single-shot pistol that she had managed to free from her bag beneath the defined line of his jaw.</p>
<p>The two of them stood still, breathing heavily in the muggy air. Steam rose from the pavement, creating a haze that shrouded them to outside eyes. However, a part of her felt like squirming under the intense gaze that was leveled her way. Despite the inequity of their positions, the man kept up a deportment of ease and arrogance, which made the hair on her arms stand up with caution. Ever the professional, however, she maintained her composure and took the measure of the man in front of her for the first time.</p>
<p>Upon closer inspection, this would-be assassin was not...unpleasant to look upon. He had aristocratic features - a refined nose, chiseled jaw, and a self-assurance that could have been attractive if it was not aimed at her. Unfortunately for him, she could not allow him to walk away. Too much depended on her. But, even now, she balked at the prospect.</p>
<p>Her finger tightened on the trigger, even as her eyes asked for forgiveness; however, the feel of sharpened steel pressed against the sensitive column of her throat halted her action.</p>
<p>
  <em>Sonofabitch. He got my knife.</em>
</p>
<p>“I told you to walk away,” she panted out as a bead of sweat dripped from underneath her wig. Her chest heaved, causing her generous breasts to strain against the modest cups sewn into the gown, and she rolled her eyes when she noticed his eyes glance down and back up.</p>
<p>“And I told you, I can’t do that,” he replied angrily.</p>
<p>She shook her head and chuckled to herself in disbelief. This was not what she had anticipated for tonight. Now, the fate of the world was up in the air because she was wasting time with this….ill-mannered, surprisingly attractive, ninja janitor...</p>
<p>Wait.</p>
<p>“It looks like it will rain soon…”</p>
<p>The man blinked a few times, and she felt his hard mass of muscles pressed against her tense as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.</p>
<p>“... it’s a good thing the weatherman is usually wrong.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, my kami….this can’t be him.</em>
</p>
<p>“Agent Prince?”</p>
<p>The gunman scoffed and pushed her away with a growl. The force caused her to stumble a bit on her heels, and she watched with incredulity as he proceeded to ignore her inquiry, pick up his gun, and unzip the fabric of his jumpsuit to reveal a shiny, slick tuxedo. In an almost perfunctory manner, the navy coveralls and wedding ring were deposited with the remainder of the trash, and the messy bangs draped over his forehead were pushed back to showcase a deep widow’s peak.</p>
<p>Instead of a lowly, public servant, a sexy and stylish man stood in its place. This was him - her partner for this op. The man who could disarm a bomb while charming a queen out of her panties. This was the man who single-handled took down a cabal in Sadala. This was the man...</p>
<p>“You look like a prostitute rather than a woman going to a gala….Agent Bulma Briefs. I expected….more. Perhaps you don’t deserve the title,” he stated as he took her form in again, his fingers adjusting the cuff links at his wrists.</p>
<p>
  <em>This...is him? What an asshole! How is this going to work?</em>
</p>
<p>Bulma tsked in dismissal, adjusted her décolletage, and began to check her dress for any holes. “I could say the same about you, Agent Vegeta Prince. You’re always taller in the stories they tell. Perhaps I should nix the heels so no one sticks you at the kid’s table?”</p>
<p>“Tch!” was the reply she was afforded, and she grinned in triumph at his annoyance. Determined to rattle his demeanor further, she slinked up to his side and pressed her body against his. Without the bulky garb of his disguise, the hardness of his body was readily apparent and she giggled when a slight blush darkened the tips of his ears.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong? Is the Big Bad Man shy? Or maybe...you just like what you see?”</p>
<p>Vegeta shot a glare in her direction, but the veneer of confidence quickly replaced his discomfort. He looked down at the dagger in his hand and tossed it, easily catching the weapon handle first and placing it into the inside pocket of his tuxedo. He backed away and offered his arm for her to take.</p>
<p>“We’ll see, Briefs. One never knows how first dates will end.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Get to Know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>City lights streaked by, the reds and whites of passing cars nothing but a blur as the high-powered sports car weaved its way throughout the traffic. He shifted gears with calculated and practiced precision, the paddles by the steering wheel, allowing for quick changes. The loud purr and rumble of the V10 engine beneath him calmed the edginess that had been a constant companion since his debrief at HQ had occurred.</p><p>Vegeta peered from the corner of his eye at the woman sitting beside him. If it had been up to him, he would have completed this operation on his own, as he usually did; however, people with higher security clearance than himself had deemed this <em>joining </em>essential.</p><p>The so-called Agent Briefs had removed the brunette wig from her head, as well as the false eyebrows that were covering her own, revealing hair that was a vibrant and intoxicating blue. A part of him wondered, callously, if the carpet matched the drapes, but he pushed that aside and stared at the road in front of him.</p><p>If anything, he assured himself, she would be a distraction, and he would be able to get actual work done. She seemed more than willing to use her body to her advantage, and Hercule’ Satan was a well-known womanizer. Still, the look in her eye was nothing but trouble, and Vegeta had the sense that Agent Briefs would be more vexing than she was worth.</p><p>“This brooding silence may work for you, but I find it unproductive. Perhaps we should review the debrief? Just to make sure we’re on the same page.” </p><p> Although her tone was cordial, professional even, a subconscious part of him bristled at her attempt to take charge. Vegeta huffed through his nose, the sound barely audible above the roar of the engine. </p><p>
  <em> Who does this uppity broad think she is? I’m a fucking professional. I know what is expected of me. If she is the best the Capsule Intelligence Agency could muster, then I’ll be carrying this op.  </em>
</p><p>“I know my job,” he replied, gruffly, and effortlessly shifted into a higher gear. </p><p>Her sigh of frustration, on the other hand, was unmistakable and apparent as she shifted in the leather seat and crossed her legs, the action causing the sequined fabric to flash out the corner of his eye and draw his focus, momentarily, to the tantalizing skin that had become more visible. With more difficulty than he’d like to admit, Vegeta forced his eyes back on the road.</p><p>“Humor me, then. We are to be partners in this. Plus, considering I was able to disarm you so easily, perhaps it’s your reputation that’s unearned.” she said with an easy smile that belied the barely disguised dig that she tossed his way.</p><p>
  <em> This Woman. She’s got a mouth on her, that’s for sure.  </em>
</p><p>He worked his jaw, stifling the scathing retort that wanted to work its way past his lips, and rolled his shoulders back to ease the tension in his shoulders.</p><p>“The mission, <em> Briefs</em>, is simple. Hercule' Satan has obtained, at no small cost and no shortage of bodies, the formula for a biological weapon capable of inflicting high casualties in seconds. Mr. Satan is throwing his annual 'Celebration of me' birthday party...”</p><p>Vegeta quickly changed lanes to avoid a cyclist, smoothly shifting down and upward to a higher gear. “...complete with fireworks, acrobats, and purported late-night orgies, because why be subtle? Our object is to use the party as cover, infiltrate his residence and obtain the formula.”</p><p>He looked over at his passenger and gave her an unimpressed look. “Simple.”</p><p>“If it were <em>that </em>simple, <em> Badman</em>, then SSI wouldn’t have called in Capsule for the assist.” she retorted with the arch of her well-manicured brow. “Take a right at the light.”</p><p>“Perhaps if CIA were willing to get their hands dirty, then SSI wouldn’t have to provide the muscle for this operation.” he volleyed back as he sharply took the corner, causing his irritating navigator to be momentarily thrown against the door.  </p><p>
  <em> Take that, Briefs.  </em>
</p><p>“Watch it, asshole! What part of covert do you have a problem with? You do realize that if we get pulled over, our cover is blown?”</p><p>He snickered, the sound making his passenger frown further, and lightly pressed the brakes before flicking the steering wheel to the left and causing the vehicle to drift around the next corner. The hapless Briefs could do nothing but brace herself against the force. </p><p>“Briefs, the rich asshole types that Satan attracts don’t follow street signs. It would be out of place if I didn’t treat the road like my personal racetrack,” Vegeta replied, calmly, and engaged the street mode. With the accuracy that only a well-built sports car could display, the onboard computer lowered the suspension and opened the throttle. The vibrations from the massive engine traveled up his spine and down to his toes.</p><p>As his foot pressed the accelerator, he glanced over to her again with a self-assured smirk on his face. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”</p><p>“Things you’ve never said to anyone,” she muttered, not entirely under her breath, and pulled out a compact from her purse to touch up her already flawless makeup. “And you can call me Bulma, <em> Vegeta</em>. We might as well use our names.”</p><p>Vegeta snorted in disdain and allowed a seemingly mutually agreed upon silence to settle between them again. For several minutes, the only sound was the engine’s light hum as he maneuvered the city streets towards their destination. Before long, however, he heard his passenger clear her throat, and, even without looking, he could feel her eyes on him.</p><p>“Look, it’s obvious you’re not thrilled with this assignment or me.” </p><p>“That, Briefs, is an understatement,” he replied, softly pressing the brake to stop at a nearby light.</p><p>“It’s Bulma, or did I rattle that brain of yours from our fight?” </p><p>The soft press of a hand on his thigh and the sultry lilt of her words made him cut his gaze in her direction. Her eyes, the same startling blue as her hair, were shining even in the dim light the city lights provided. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and grimaced in displeasure. “I’d prefer not to get too familiar, Briefs. After this is done, we're going to part ways."</p><p>"Well, how are we going to portray an elegant couple, so deeply in love, if you can't even call me by my name? I should know you a little." she teased as she curved her fingers around the heavy muscle in his leg. </p><p>"Like most rich couples, we'll put on a show," he replied and gently removed her hand from his thigh, though he immediately missed its presence. "Fine, <em> Briefs</em>, what do you want to know?"</p><p>The blue-haired harridan tsked in displeasure but looked at him in surprise."Oh! I get to ask questions now? Excellent.” Any annoyance that she felt at his refusal to use her name was seemingly forgotten. She hummed in thought for a moment before grinning like a schoolgirl.</p><p>“What’s your specialty? Is it true you can make a weapon from nothing but a paperclip and rubber band? Did you really have a secret lovechild with the Duchess of Charbourg? What’s your favorite drink? Do you snore in bed? What’s your mother’s maiden name and your first pet?”</p><p>Despite himself, he laughed at the rapid-fire barrage of both relevant and ridiculous questions. The joyful noise was almost foreign and distasteful to his ears. How long had it been since he’d laughed? Briefs...no, he corrected himself; Bulma looked pleased with herself and smiled broadly in return.</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>Vegeta shook his head and chuckled, incredulously, as he put the vehicle into drive again, veering off the main roads to the more exclusive part of town.</p><p>
  <em> This Woman. </em>
</p><p>“Specialty is hand to hand combat and munitions...was trained as a sniper before being recruited to the Saiyan Special Intelligence. Yes. No. Bourbon on the rocks. I wouldn’t know because I’m asleep...and nice try.”</p><p>“Damn, thought I had you there.”</p><p>He gave her a droll look in response. “I’ve survived waterboarding and having my fingernails pulled out during training. Your attempt was...cute.”</p><p>“Just my attempt?” Bulma asked with a wink. “My turn. Computer specialist, focusing on encryption, code analysis, and I’ve got a few rando PhDs in engineering and molecular biology thrown in. I can make a mean paper football, no lovechild...gross, dry martini with two olives, I don’t snore, but I do kick.”</p><p>Vegeta looked at her in careful consideration but nodded and took the final turn to their destination. “Unless part of your plan is to sleep over, I think that you should stick to your considerable academic talents.”</p><p>“That was the plan, Badman.”</p><p>There was that name again. The one that she had started calling him whenever she wanted to be funny. Unfortunately for her, she was not as humorous as she thought herself to be.</p><p>“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled as he pulled past the wrought iron gates and down the long, winding drive to the gigantic mansion on top of the hill.</p><p>The house shone like a gigantic beacon. Technicolor lights blazed and flashed, disco music blared and echoed, and people were practically beaming with pleasure and drunkenness at the raucous festivities. Above it all, projected into the night sky, was the singular word - SATAN!</p><p>Vegeta rolled his eyes at the mardi gras-like atmosphere. It was certainly like the man himself - garish, obscene, and ridiculous.</p><p>As he pulled up to the valet and handed the boy the keys, he turned to his partner. “Are you ready, Briefs?”</p><p>Bulma rolled her eyes but pasted a pretty smile back onto her face and tossed him a kittenish wink over her shoulder as the valet opened her door to help her out of the vehicle.</p><p>“Ready when you are, Badman.”</p><p>His brow furrowed in annoyance at the cursed nickname. Nevertheless, he schooled his features to one of arrogant superiority. The two of them walked along the gigantic red carpet that led inside the opulent gold-gilded and marble strewn home of their host.</p><p>All eyes were on them, and he felt his hackles rise at all the lingering looks that were aimed at the woman at his side. However, Briefs seemed to bask in the attention and strutted down the carpet and into the foyer like she was on her catwalk.</p><p>The lights bounced off the scarlet sequins in her dress, causing her to shine like a multi-faceted and polished ruby in the middle of a pile of ordinary stones. This was not a woman who hid in the shadows. This was a woman who was noticed and reveled in it.</p><p>
  <em> Unlike you. </em>
</p><p>Vegeta preferred to be unseen and in the shadows. This grand performance, this….date….was taking him far from his comfort zone. But, he was a professional; he could do this. He <em>would </em>do this.</p><p>He rolled his shoulders and held his head high, every step of his gait stiff and purposeful. He had to remind himself to loosen his frame lest he appear out of place among the cavalcade of cavorting clowns around him. His gaze swept over the crowd, taking note of the security that was scattered all over the place, his eyes narrowing when he caught sight of a few known...disreputable characters.</p><p>
  <em> Ginyu Private Security. This suddenly became more interesting. If Satan is shelling out for these guys, we’re going to have to be careful… </em>
</p><p>“Relax, you look like you’re going to murder someone. Smile, and put your hand on my ass.” </p><p>The ghost of a whisper at the shell of his ear caused him to snap his head towards her in surprise. Rather than argue, he took a breath and lowered his hand from the small of her back to the toned curve of her buttock, squeezing and then smacking the firm flesh. Bulma squeaked in surprise but quickly laughed to cover her reaction and kissed him on the cheek.</p><p>He smirked as he leaned towards her ear and whispered, “We’re here to do a job, remember? This isn’t some date to the prom, Briefs. I count at least ten armed guards on the way in...”</p><p>“....and what better way to see how many more there are than by taking a turn or two on the dance floor?” </p><p>Before Vegeta could protest, she grabbed his hand and led them to the dancefloor at the center of the main room. His feet felt leaden and uncooperative, but Briefs did not seem to mind. She skillfully brought his hand to her waist, and together, they moved around the many other couples that populated the slicked and shiny floor.</p><p>A few times, he stumbled but righted himself before anyone could take particular notice of his ungainliness. However, Briefs only smiled at him encouragingly, and soon his body began to move with hers, allowing him to stop worrying about his footwork and more at the task at hand.</p><p><em> Guards at every point of entry....two making sweeps. We need to get one of their comms so we can track their movements easier... </em>  </p><p>"So, you're not a bad dancer...once you relax a bit." </p><p>He glanced back in the direction of his dance partner and immediately found himself unable to tear his gaze away. The overhead lights, combined with the calm serenity on her face, pulled him closer. He stared deep into the siren sapphire of her eyes, his breath catching for a moment and the frown on his face easing into a relaxed expression.</p><p>"Thank you," he murmured in response. As the music slowed to a more unhurried tempo, she pushed her frame further into his, the glorious and soft curves he had admired during their scuffle, tempting his granite-like resolve to make this more about pleasure than business. Briefs, too, looked as if she wished the same as a slight pink hue came to her cheeks, and her movements became more sensuous and seductive.</p><p>"Briefs?"  </p><p>His eyes dropped to the full and plush lips of her mouth, the crimson shade tempting and provoking him like a red flag in front of a bull."Yes, Vegeta?" she whispered back, her mouth but a hair's breadth away from his own.</p><p>"Excuse me? Do you mind if I cut in?"</p><p>They both turned, Vegeta glowering at the intrusion. However, standing next to them was the man of the hour, the whole reason they were here - Hercule' Satan, aka 'Mr. Satan' to the rest of the world.</p><p>Unconsciously, Vegeta went to pull Briefs closer, but she smoothly slid out of his hold and into the waiting arms of their target with an almost shy smile. Her whole body language changed from sexpot to fangirl.</p><p>"Of course not," she cooed in return and let the afro bedecked man wiggle his way between them. "I'll see you at the bar later, hon!" she called at him, and Vegeta's lips pressed together into a thin line, the disquiet both unequivocal and unambiguous on his face.</p><p>
  <em> That Woman. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A very special TY to: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Red/pseuds/Lady_Red">Lady_Red</a>; <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruthlesscupcake/pseuds/Ruthlesscupcake">Ruthlesscupcake</a>; <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofAlderaan/pseuds/OwlFeathers">OwlFeathers</a>; <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatherynnStars/pseuds/CatherynnStars">CatherynnStars</a> and<br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embarassedbutkinky/pseuds/Embarassedbutkinky">Embarassedbutkinky</a> for the story encouragement. I really appreciate it.</p><p>Just overall friend S/O to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areo_ian/pseuds/Areo_ian">Areo_ian</a>./ TYSM for being you.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Eat Food/Get A drink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>The things I do for this job.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the lock ‘clicked’ firmly into place, she allowed the facade of the besotted and innocent fangirl to drop. One thing was for sure, Mr. Satan had a thing for blues if the jealous girlfriend was any indication. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes and walked towards the giant bathroom mirror, taking a moment to reapply her lipstick from the kisses that the man had managed to steal before they were interrupted. Bulma chuckled to herself as she recalled the possessive way the other woman pulled Satan away from her and the disingenuous defense he offered in return. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Too bad yesterday’s news is in for a surprise later.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of her felt sorry for the other woman. She was nothing more than the air-headed bimbo type, clueless about what was going on; however, this was business. It was nothing personal or malicious. Ten to one, blue-haired Barbie would bounce back, find another sucker to sink her claws into, and be on her way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mind wandered, absent-mindedly, to her partner and how close they’d come to a more personal encounter on the dance floor. The hint of a smile tugged the corner of her mouth at the memory of the kiss-that-wasn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What would a kiss from him feel like? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would it be perfunctory and dispassionate, like a well-executed kill, or would some sort of sex-panther that lay dormant beneath the surface come out?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Girl, get your head in the game and stop thinking about….other things. He’s just a guy. No different than any other….unless you count that swoon-worthy smile…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma shook her head to banish the stray thoughts away. Time to get back to work. She unlocked the bathroom and strutted past the line of women who were waiting to use the facilities with a supercilious smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she walked down the splendiferous abode's hallways, she kept track of the layout, matching the various doors and hallways to the mental blueprint of the place she had begun constructing as soon as they had entered the door. Most rooms seemed to be a showcase for the glory of Satan, displaying his vast wealth and influence for all the world to see and admire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if the herculean self-portrait in the bathroom wasn’t any indication of the man’s pomposity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were, however, a few rooms that seemed designated for more intimate affairs, filled with shadow-filled corners and little hideaways perfect for the random rendezvous that no doubt was a staple of his soiree’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she finally emerged from the labyrinthine hallways and back into the central portion of the mansion, Bulma took a glance at the room to see if she could spot her ‘date,’ her brows knitting together when her quick inventory of all the common areas came up empty.</span><br/>
<br/>
<em>
    <span>Where are you, Badman? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed and walked towards the cash bar, that was set up near the veranda. Luckily, the bar was empty save for the bartender as, it seemed, most patrons appeared occupied with other activities. A colossal marble fountain populated the middle of the room, and Bulma situated herself on the barstool so that the marmoreal monstrosity obscured her from view. She needed a break, a chance to regroup and reconnoiter for the next phase of the operation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s a gorgeous woman like you doing all alone at a party like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma turned towards the voice, a demure smile graced her lips as she regarded the bartender. The man had a kind, but devilish, expression on his face, the type that said, ‘I’ll listen to your sorrows and take you out back to help you relieve those woes later.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This roguish look, coupled with his impressive build and height, made her take more notice of the man than she would have otherwise. She glanced down at the name tag affixed to his red vest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Raditz,” she replied as she leaned on the heel of one hand. She smiled a little wider and batted her eyelashes coquettishly when she noticed his eyes drop to her cleavage. “Even gorgeous women get a little thirsty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they? I guess it’s lucky I’ve all manner of things to wet to your whistle,” he countered with a confident wink. They shared a laugh, and he went to obtain a refill for a male patron who had just walked up to the bar. “I doubt you stay thirsty for very long.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might be surprised, Big Man.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe...we can surprise ourselves later tonight?” he said as he placed a filled glass in front of her. “You look like the dry martini type of gal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma raised her eyebrows in surprise and hummed in response. She moved to take the glass, her fingers sliding along the polished wood of the bar; however, their path was interrupted when a large hand, seemingly from nowhere, placed itself over the rim of her drink and pulled the beverage out of her reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get her a clean glass, with two olives this time along with a bourbon on the rocks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A rough and harsh-sounding voice came from beside her, and Bulma peeked out of the corner of her eye to regard the sudden company. Along with the patrician profile, the de facto frown on her partner’s face made her smile to herself. She swiveled on the barstool and leaned backwards, letting her elbows rest on the shiny wooden countertop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are,” she purred, flicking her gaze up and down his form. His suit looked a bit mussed, the lines not as crisp as they had been an hour ago, and there was a small bead of sweat caught on his hairline. “I was all alone; well, Raditz here was being a dear and keeping me company.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you were hardly alone,” Vegeta stated, matter-of-factly, and turned his attention to Raditz. Bulma almost felt bad for the man. If the look Vegeta leveled at him was any indication, the hapless bartender would have been ash on the floor. As it was, Raditz gulped and held his hands up in token placation, seemed unwilling to be drawn into any potential seduction games between the two of them, and quickly turned away to complete their orders with a nod. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta watched with laser focus on the man’s movements. Each motion, each drop of ice, every splash of liquid was dissected until two fresh drinks were placed upon the bar top. Bulma thanked Raditz for the new drink, hiding her amused smile behind the rim of her glass. However, Vegeta scowled and glared bloody murder until the bartender gave them space and walked to the other end of the massive bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sipped her martini with two olives and rolled her eyes at the overt show of male dominance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you happy? I think his dick shrank two sizes in comparison to your uber show of testosterone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta tsked dismissively and quickly downed the dark, mahogany-colored liquid of his drink with a single gulp. “I merely desired to make sure that we would have some semblance of privacy. Besides, what type of date would I be if I left you to flirt with the hairy bartender?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So attentive,” she cooed near his ear as she leaned forward on her seat to readjust his tie. “You remembered how I like my drink.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta tensed at her closeness, but did not pull away. Although the corners of his mouth continued to be turned downward into a frown, there was a hint of something in his dark eyes as he looked at her that spoke volumes more than he outwardly allowed his body to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her breath quickened, ever so slightly, and she returned his look with a smoldering one of her own. The Adam’s apple in his throat visibly bobbed beneath the collar of his shirt as he roughly swallowed. Just as she was about to brush her lips against his, she slowly leaned back and let the silken fabric of his tie slide through her fingers with a barely audible ‘swish.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmph. It was hardly a difficult order, Briefs.” Vegeta rebuffed after a long moment and turned his eyes away from her. He appeared ruffled by her actions, and Bulma could see the tips of his ears pinkening again under her scrutiny. Her lips curved into a smile, and she dropped her eyes to his wrinkled suit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, what happened to you? Did you have some more fun on the dancefloor when I left?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta looked down at his suit and grimaced as he attempted to straighten his attire nonchalantly. He looked over his shoulder again, and Bulma could see his dark and keen eyes taking stock of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Certainly more fun than playing the trollop for that blowhard. Some of us were actually working," he retorted as he reached behind and under the counter of the bar, felt around for a second or two, and then pulled out a bottle of XR Whisky. The amber-colored alcohol swished and lightly sloshed in his glass, and Vegeta opted to sip rather than to gulp it down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma blew out a bemused breath and used a nearby toothpick to spear one of the olives in her beverage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? I suppose getting close to the target, winning his trust, and scoping out where his bedroom is was just me...screwing around, then? His bedroom, which is on the north side of the compound and under heavy guard, is the most likely place to store the target. And before you ask, no, I didn't sleep with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From her side, her partner’s stance relaxed at her pronouncement, and he inclined his head in approval at the information.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's a Ginyu security grunt in the bushes. He's knocked out and should be unconscious for the next hour; however, he'll be noticed missing from his post. The standard sweep for that side of the compound is once every 45 minutes. We're running out of time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned and pulled the skewered olive off the toothpick with her teeth. As she chewed, she sighed, drummed her manicured nails on the bar top, and attempted to postulate the best course of action. Above them, thunder crashed, and a loud boom echoed in the halls. The ting-tapping of small droplets of rain could be seen on the windows. It seems like that storm was finally catching up to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, no one ever said being a spy would be easy. This revelation would definitely make the likelihood of success a little more complicated. Difficult, but not impossible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what? You just got into a fight for the hell of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta smirked and pointed to his ear. Barely visible to the inexperienced eyes was a communication earpiece, the kind designed to be unobtrusive and favored by security teams. Bulma could not help but giggle at the smugness on the man’s face, which caused his smile to fade in annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I said, some of us were working. I stole his comm, so now I’ve got their movements. If we’re going to make a play for the football, we need to break up this huddle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma raised a brow at his analogy and finished the remainder of her drink. What was it with men and sports? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm. Well, I don’t get the sports talk; however, I agree we better get started.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta nodded and helped her off her barstool. Bulma opened her clutch, pulled out a twenty to place in Raditz’s tip jar, and waved at him as they started to walk away. To her surprise, her partner quickly placed his arm around her waist and shot the man a nasty glare before pulling her closer to his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, here’s the plan. I’ll take point and dispatch the armed guards. You work on lock picking his door, and then we’ll…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could continue, Bulma placed her index finger gently against his lips, and before he could protest, she reached into her cleavage to pull out a black and shiny key card. She had to bite her lips to keep from laughing at the look of disbelief on his handsome face, but she stifled the urge and tossed him another wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds like a great plan, Badman. Too bad I already got a personal invite to the bedroom...and a key to the place. Now, why don’t we try it my way first before we go in guns blazing, huh?</span>
  <em>
    <span>”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TY to Areo_ian, Lady_Red and Ruthlesscupcake for continuing to encourage me through this process and for the betas!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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